


Snow In April

by princesskay



Category: Longmire (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Car Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fix-It, Getting Together, Season/Series 04, Stranded
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2019-04-14 15:20:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14138841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princesskay/pseuds/princesskay
Summary: When an unexpected blizzard strands them on the return journey of a prisoner transport, Vic confronts Walt about her feelings.





	Snow In April

Static hissed in between the ethereal notes of “Dreams” playing on untrustworthy wavelengths. Stevie Nicks’ husky voice reached out as if from another universe to blend with the flat, yellow-brown landscape rolling out in every direction. Tiny snowflakes drifted from the gray clouds, barely noticeable against the bland backdrop. 

Vic kept waiting for Walt to get irritated with the interference, and turn the radio off. She wasn’t looking forward to the silence. Walt wasn’t a big conversationalist, and these days, circumstance rather than disposition kept him moody and quiet. Ever since Branch’s death, things hadn’t quite felt the same between them. 

They were an hour and a half into a three hour journey across Absaroka County, the return side of a prisoner transport Walt always insisted on doing himself. They’d stopped at the meet-up point with the FBI just long enough to hand over the prisoner before turning back around and heading home. That meant she only had to make it two and half more hours before she was out of the truck, and away from the simmering tension that lingered like a ghost at their backs. 

Gazing out the window, Vic longed to be out of the car, or to at least stretch her legs. 

“My ass is killing me.” She complained, shifting around in the seat to get comfortable. 

“Two more hours. You can do it.” 

Vic rolled her eyes at Walt’s mediocre attempt at commiseration. 

“The least we could have done was stop for dinner.” 

“The sooner we get back, the sooner it’ll be over.” He reasoned. “Besides, the sky’s looking pretty dark. I don’t want to get stuck out here on the road with a storm coming.” 

Vic leaned forward to peer up at the thick, dark clouds stacking up along the horizon. The snow swirling from the sky was coming down in bigger flakes. Not too worrisome for Wyoming, but the weather could turn on a dime out here. 

“I never thought I’d say this, but I miss winters in Philly.” Vic said, “It sucked, but at least we didn’t usually get snowstorms in April.” 

“That’s Wyoming for you.”  

Vic scowled out the window. They’d resorted to discussing the weather. 

“I know you’re bad at small talk, but this is painful. I’m going to put my seat back, try to get some rest.” 

He hardly acknowledged the jab as she cranked the seat back, and draped an arm over her face. She closed her eyes, allowing the constant hum of the tires over pavement to lull her to sleep. 

It didn’t take much with the exhaustion tugging at her limbs like dead weight. She hadn’t been sleeping well since Sean left. Even if they hadn’t been on the best of terms for months, it still felt strange, being alone in bed. Some unconscious part of her brain could recognize his missing presence even while draped in dreams. 

 

~

 

Vic dreamed faintly of shadowy figures, of baseball bats, of Stevie Nicks’ voice echoing from above as if she were submerged under water. And then, with a great crash and a startling shout, those feathery images shattered into cold, blunt reality. 

Vic gasped as her head slammed into the car door, and she felt her body tilt against gravity. The truck came to a startling halt, metal screeching against metal. 

Scrambling upright, Vic saw Walt clutching the steering wheel. Beyond the truck, the spitting snow had developed into a white-out blizzard. The headlights of the Bronco beamed two cones of light across the ditch they were sitting in, illuminating the angry, swirling snow that raged against the crashed vehicle. 

“What the fuck happened?” Vic demanded, hearing her voice as if from a long tunnel. 

“Vic, are you all right?” 

Pain cut like a knife the side of her head. She could barely concentrate on his worried gaze roaming over her face. She stifled a moan as he clutched her cheeks, his fingers cold and clammy. 

“I’m … I’m fine …” Vic muttered, despite the ringing in her ears and the throbbing in her head. “Wh-what happened?” 

“Semi slid in the snow, went left of center.” 

“Shit.” Vic whispered. “Can we get out of this ditch?” 

“I don’t know. I’m gonna get out, see how bad it is.” 

“Okay.” 

Disoriented, Vic leaned back against the seat while Walt shoved the door open, and stepped out into the storm. 

While she’d slept, the billowing clouds had burst open to blanket them in snow. She couldn’t make out the lines on the road, or anything ten feet beyond the truck. The Bronco’s engine was still running, but it was wedged at an angle into the ditch. 

A few minutes later, Walt pulled the door open again, and leaned against the roof. 

“Can you get into the driver’s seat?” Walt asked. 

Vic nodded. “You want me to try to drive out?” 

“I’ll push.” 

Blinking against the dull throbbing in her head, Vic crawled behind the wheel. 

“How bad is it?” She asked. 

A sigh erupted from her lips when Walt let the door swing shut without responding. 

Adjusting the rear view mirror, she saw Walt leaning against the back window of the Bronco. She shifted the truck into drive, and applied gentle pressure to the gas. The engine revved, and the truck rocked against Walt’s pushing. Under the whir of the engine, Vic could hear the tires spinning against packed snow. 

After several long moments of accelerating and pushing, Vic let off the gas, and threw the truck back into park. Pushing her shoulder into the door, she opened it just far enough to peer out into the blustering snow. 

“It feels like we’re just digging ourselves in deeper.” She shouted over the rushing wind. 

Walt strode back to the front of the truck, his feet plowing through a foot of snow. 

“Yeah.” He said, his expression rigid with frustration. “Get on the radio. See if you can get ahold of anyone back at the station.” 

“It’s almost nine. I don’t think anyone will be there.” 

“Just try it.” 

Vic clenched her jaw as he pushed the door shut. Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she sighed heavily at the single, tiny bar of service she was getting out in this wasteland. She tried to make a call to Ferg, but the connection dropped before it could even start ringing. 

“Shit.” She muttered, smacking her palm against the steering wheel. 

She picked up the radio, and listened the static hum for a half a second before she spoke into the handpiece. “Ruby, it’s Vic. Are you there?” 

She let her finger off the receiver and waited. Silence greeted her, disappointing proof that she’d been right. 

“Ruby? Ferg? … Anyone?” 

No answer. They were alone. 

Vic tossed the handpiece across the passenger seat, and pressed her knuckles against her mouth. The cutting pain in her head had tapered off to a dull throb, but that wasn’t the worst of it. If they couldn’t get through to the station until morning, that meant she had to spend the rest of the night locked in this truck with Walt. No food, no bathroom, no fucking peace. 

Vic startled when the door swung open again. 

“The semi’s gone.” Walt said, “He must’ve driven off.” 

“That’s pretty ballsy, driving a Sheriff’s vehicle off the road and then leaving the scene.” 

“I doubt he could see it’s a Sheriff’s truck.” Walt said, “It’s hard to see much of anything.” 

“I can’t get through to anyone at the station.” Vic said, “And my phone has no service out here. What’re we gonna do?” 

“Keep trying.” He said. He waved his hand at her. “Move on over.” 

Vic scooted back into the passenger’s side, and Walt climbed back behind the wheel. Yanking the door shut behind him, he took off his hat and shook the gathered snow from the brim. 

“Even if we have to wait until morning, we’ll survive.” He added, “We’ve got enough fuel to keep the heat on til morning. I’ve got blankets in the back even if we don’t.” 

“Yeah, blankets that dead people have been wrapped in.” 

Ignoring her remark, Walt snagged the radio cord, and lifted the receiver off the floor. 

“Ruby? Ferg? Anyone there?” 

Vic turned toward the window, rolling her eyes. “I already tried that.” 

“Ruby, it’s Walt. There’s been an accident. We’re out on State Road 5, just past mile marker 17.” 

Vic shook her head as he kept trying for half a minute, getting nothing but static and silence in response. She could imagine his voice echoing through into the empty office that had been locked up for close to an hour. 

“Well …” Walt grunted, snapping the handpiece back into place on the dash. 

“I told you, nobody is still there.” 

“It was worth a try.” 

“And now will you believe me that we’re screwed?” 

“It’ll be okay.” Walt said, holding up a pacifying hand. “Just calm down.” 

“I  _ am _ calm.” She said, shooting him a glare. 

Brow rising faintly, Walt averted his gaze to the windshield. 

“What?” Vic snapped, “You have to admit, this is bullshit. We are stranded out here for God knows how long all because of some stupid rule of yours.” 

“The weather has no bearing on my rule.” 

“Nonetheless, we wouldn’t be here if it didn’t exist.” 

“Well, we’re here now. And all we can do is make the best of it.” 

“The best of it? I suppose you also expect me to grin and bear it while I’m squatting out in the snow in the event of having to use the bathroom.” 

He grimaced, but didn’t have a response for that graphic retort. 

Vic huffed in disbelief. 

The sound of the wind buffeting against the truck filled the strained silence. Part of her wanted to get out out of the truck and start walking, but she knew that was irrational. 

“You know, the only reason I went on this dumb trip with you is because I don’t like the idea of you being out here alone.” She said. 

“I can look after myself.” 

“There is nothing out here for miles. You’ve got no cellphone to call for help, and the radio is worthless this late at night.” 

“You don’t have reception on your phone anyway.” 

“That’s not my point. What if something worse than a snowstorm happened?” 

“It never has before.” 

“God, you just don’t think about the people your life affects.” 

The rebuttal rushed from her lips before she could consider the impact of her words. Their honesty, and their implications. 

Now that they were out of her mouth, she felt bare, all her defenses stripped back by the simple graze of his eyes over her trembling face. She didn’t know how to gather her fallen composure back up again. 

Walt’s reply came slowly, laced with confusion. “Have I done something to upset you? To hurt you?” 

Her first reaction was scream an affirmation in his face. Rest all the blame squarely on his shoulders. But she had to think about her own responsibilities, and how she’d let these feelings run away with her self-control. 

“If I have, I can tell you it wasn’t on purpose.” He said, “But you should tell me right now so I can fix it.” 

Vic huffed out a sigh against the lump forming in the back of her throat. Pressing her fingertips against her brow, she shook her head. 

“You know, I was really going to do it.” She whispered, “I was going to drive to your house, walk up to the door, and tell you how I felt.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“It was the day … the day Branch died.” 

Gradual realization dawned in his eyes. He glanced away, focusing on the blizzard raging against the windows. “Vic …” 

“I left you a voicemail, telling you I was coming over, but I deleted it when I found out where you were. I couldn’t believe how stupid I’d been, thinking you were over her.” 

“That wasn’t stupid.” 

“Just short-sighted.” 

Walt sighed, fingers tapping against against his knee. “You should have told me.” 

“Well, you were a little preoccupied.” Vic said, her tone prickling defensively. “Then when you came back from your leave, you were just so … closed off, I didn’t even want to try to jump into that emotional wreck.” 

“Well, Vic, I’m sorry I wasn’t emotionally available to you. Is that why you’re mad at me right now?” 

“I’m mad at myself.” 

He nodded slowly, his gaze peeking out at her from beneath the brim of his hat. 

“This is  _ not  _ how I wanted to be having this conversation.” She muttered, casting a glare at the storm surrounding them.

He didn’t try to muster a reply. He shifted in his seat, and draped his wrist over the steering wheel, his fingers flexing into an uneasy fist. 

Vic’s arms curled tighter around her middle, holding back the tide of emotions. His silence said enough, and she felt like even more of fool. She should have just kept her mouth shut. 

“So,” She said, her voice clipped with frustration. “What would have happened if Branch hadn’t got shot that day? If you’d gotten my voicemail, and you were still there at the cabin when I arrived?” 

“Well, seeing how I didn’t know Branch had been shot at the time, I wouldn’t have been there anyway.” Walt said, “I was out that day for another reason.” 

Vic recalled the empty tea box Henry had found in the abandoned saddle bag, and pressed her eyes shut against a fresh wave of humiliation. 

“But I’m sure you would have found some other time to make your feelings known if I hadn’t been so ‘preoccupied’ with Branch. Keeping quiet isn’t exactly your strong suit.” 

“But it is yours.” 

“Vic.” He said, his tone softening. “It doesn’t matter how I feel. Me having a relationship with you is a little unprofessional, maybe even morally wrong considering I’m your superior officer.” 

“Oh, so you’re gonna take the highroad?” Vic asked, anger returning to her chest in an instant. “There’s no policy against interoffice relationships in Absaroka County.” 

“I’m not talking about the law. I’m talking about personal ethics.” 

“I cannot believe you.”

“Vic-”

“I don’t give a damn about your ‘personal ethics’, Walt. I’m asking you how you really feel. Is it really that hard for you to give me a straight answer?” 

“Even if I do feel that way, I can’t just ignore-”

“ _ If? _ ” 

His reasoning came to a halt as their gazes connected over the brief, burning question. He swallowed hard, his fingers curling around the leather steering wheel. 

Vic let out a frustrated sigh at his failure to answer immediately. Reaching across the truck, she grabbed him by the front of his shirt, and pulled him toward her. Their mouths collided, more of an assault than a kiss. She kept her lips pinned to his for a long moment to let the reality of her questions and her feelings sink in. He couldn’t talk his way out of a kiss, and he sure as hell couldn’t walk away from this situation without confronting his own feelings. It was the only card she had left to play. 

She released him, shoving her knuckles into his chest, and he leaned back against his seat with a low, shocked exhale. Their gazes held for a brief, tense moment before she threw up a hand. 

“Well? Don’t tell me you don’t have anything to say to that.” 

The back of his hand grazed his mouth where her short but brutal kiss had left a lingering, pink flush. He took off his hat, and threw it on the dash. Clearing his throat, he smoothed his palm over his knee. 

“Jesus …” She whispered, irritation beginning to eclipse desire. 

She reached for the door handle, desperate to be away from this humiliating rejection, even if it meant walking five miles to the nearest gas station in the snow. 

Before she could follow through on that drastic thought, his fingers closed around her elbow. Vic looked back to meet his burning gaze as he dragged her across the truck. Her heart thudded, and her face flushed with heat. His other hand grasped her thigh as they came face to face, mere inches separating them. 

She blinked up at him, her mind reeling with the sudden shift in reality. She tried to ready herself, but her chest all but exploded with adrenaline and exhilaration when he bent to capture her mouth with his. 

The kiss was softer than the one that she’d thrust angrily on him, but it was no less purposeful. His mouth moved hard and hungry against hers, barely letting her return the blistering need cutting like lightning through her middle. His hand slid up her arm and shoulder to grip her cheek, where it tilted her head back into subservience. 

She clutched the front of his shirt as a helpless moan wound its way from deep her chest to the tip of her tongue. Her anger and the leering humiliation melted away, leaving behind the bare bones of her vulnerable desire. 

His mouth let up after what felt like an infinite kiss. She sucked in a trembling breath, her head swimming with dull shock, and consuming need. 

His fingers grazed her cheek. Breaths spilled hot over her skin, his exhilaration wrapped up in grunted exhale. She could see the conflict in the piercing blue of his eyes, desire wrestling with those pesky personal ethics. 

“You can’t stop there.” She whispered. 

His brow furrowed at the remark, and his fingers slid away from her cheek. 

She pushed against him, forcing back against his seat. Half-crawling into lap, she pinned his mouth down with hers, and pulled at the fastens of his shirt. His palms pushed limply against her shoulders as her mouth blazed down his jaw and neck to his chest. The snaps complied to her forceful tugging, popping open to reveal a path of bare skin down the middle of his chest. 

He groaned softly as she followed that trail down to the last button. She paused with her lips against the quivering skin of his belly, and shifted her fingers to the smooth metal of his belt buckle. 

“Vic …” 

His voice stalled her desperate motions. 

She was kneeling on the floor of the truck now, gazing up at him, feeling like she’d lost herself in her daydreams because this couldn’t be real; but, his knees framed her shuddering ribs, flesh pumping and swelling against denim at their intersection, and that was real enough. 

His fingers brushed against her cheek, leaving behind the impression of conflicted desire. His gaze clung onto hers, speaking a language that couldn’t be put into words. It was enough to translate how much he’d been holding back, how much he’d thought about this moment, just as she had. 

Vic slid her palm up his thigh, hesitating briefly at the top before shifting her hand over the cover the rigid bulge trapped beneath his jeans. 

A whimper escaped his throat, hips curling toward the gentle stroke of her hand. 

She tugged the belt buckle open, and pulled the zipper down, listening to the tiny, metal teeth groaning against one another in the silence.

A pained breath spilled from his mouth as she pushed her fingers past his open fly to grasp heated cotton and throbbing flesh. His eyes rolled shut, and his head fell back against the seat. His throat worked up up down with gulping breaths, only a few hoarse moans escaping under the stroke of her hand. 

She reached for the waistband of his boxers, but his fingers closed around her wrist. His eyes slid open to meet her inquisitive gaze. There was the briefest hesitation before he pulled her up off the floor, and gripped the front of her belt. 

Vic’s heart accelerated to a bone-shaking beat as he worked the buckle open, and pulled at the zipper of her jeans. Their gazes held, both of them blinking and quaking with lurching, unspoken desires. His fingers pulled at the taut denim, and she lifted her hips from her seat to let it peel away from her hips and thighs. Cool air pricked her bare skin, but she hardly noticed with the heat of desire throbbing and aching between her legs. She could feel it gushing from her with every pulse and touch, soaking through the thin fabric of her panties. 

Leaning forward, he pressed his mouth back against hers. The kiss swallowed up her moan as his palms grazed up her bare thighs to locate the edge of her panties. His fingers hooked beneath the elastic, gradually pulling the damp fabric away. The panties joined her jeans bunched under her knees, and she opened her thighs as far as the restrictive material would allow. 

One pair of fingers laced through her hair, holding her mouth captive to his methodical kiss while the other pair brushed against the inside of her knee. 

Vic grabbed onto the collar of his shirt, urging herself toward him. Pulsating heat radiated from between her tense hips, licking fingers of need reaching out to touch every fiber of her body. She wavered on the edge of her seat as his fingers crept her thigh, stroking tender skin, and leaving unbearable tingling in his wake. 

A needy whimper burst from the back of her throat, and she bit at his lower lip in fracturing impatience. He responded by wrapping his fingers tighter around the hair at her nape, and pulling farther back under the commanding pressure of his mouth. 

The purposeful path of his fingers met the top of her inner thigh, pausing there with weighted intent. Vic wiggled, expressing her need with a muted groan against his mouth. Slowly, his fingers uncurled against the ridge of her pubic bone, grazing through the soft patch of hair to find the source of her radiating wet heat. 

Vic gasped into the steady pressure of his lips, and her hips bucked into the feathery cradle of his fingertips. She thrust her mouth into the curve of his throat, muffling a hoarse cry of need that stampeded from her throat. 

There was an endless, torturous pause before he pushed his fingertips forward, and she felt herself open to the gentle nudging. Sensation poured into every second, over-saturating her racing mind. All she could focus on was the rapid tempo of arousal rocking through her middle as his fingers rolled across puffy folds, pushing her softly open to the gradual penetration. 

The ache clenched within her peaked at an unbearable throb beneath the careful pressure of his fingers sliding into her. She was slick and pliable to adept manipulation, opening like a blooming flower dripping with nectar. Every inch of her quivered, heat and the pounding pulse of her need overtaking all other thought; she was nothing but aching, throbbing flesh, curated by the slow progression of his fingers inside her. 

His hand fucked her slowly, stirring orgasmic shivers up and down her tense, trembling body. She kept her thighs stretched open against the binding of her jeans, eager for every ministration he was willing to give her. She was hanging onto the edge of arousal, right where the aching pulse feels too much like pain, but just enough like pleasure. The climax loomed behind her, bearing down her arching spine, raking it’s fingers through her clenched belly. Just a little more stimulation and she would topple right over, into white-hot pleasure. 

But his direction was a little more circuitous, a little more gradual. His fingers kept sliding out of her the wet sheath of her body, leaving her aching, shivering, and untouched before coming back to stroke her puffy labia, her taut, bulbous clitoris. 

“Ohh. .. ohh. ..” The moans choked from her throat, her brain forming every desperate curse she could think of, but failing to articulate them into anything other than helpless whimpers. 

His fingers were wrapped up in her hair, keeping her pinned back against the seat, but the kiss had broken off midway into the nearly cruel caress. Her eyelids batted against the intolerable arousal, catching only flickers of his resolute expression. His mouth held the traces of a smile, his eyes all the gargantuan desires of their history. There was a novel behind the deep, faded blue - a litany of all the things he’d been wanting to do to her but was only now expressing. 

It all came down to handful of seconds where his fingers traced swift, tight circle around her clitoris, and she felt the restraints of piercing arousal break away into erupting pleasure. Her hips bucked up from the edge of the seat, pushing into the pressure of his fingers. Her spine snapped taut as her hips writhed and shuddered in the vice grip of orgasm. Moans rushed from her throat, breathless little sounds of satisfaction purged free by the breathtaking pleasure rocking through every inch of her. Lights played behind her clenched eyelids, sensation and bliss scaling to heights she hadn’t found in so long. 

When the aching spasms faded away and she opened her eyes, she realized she’d been starving for this touch, for someone else’s hands on her - but maybe for his specifically. 

His fingers strayed against her inner thigh as she relaxed against the seat cushion, breathing heavily. He unwound his other hand from her hair, allowing her push herself upright. 

She brought her knees together, sharply aware of the wet heat trickling from within her and onto the seat cover. 

His hand retreated to his lap, and curled into a fist. He drew in a shaky breath, his gaze bouncing from the side of her face to the windshield. 

He cleared his throat. “Vic-”

“No.” She whispered, her voice husky, as she whipped her chin over to look at him. “Don’t say anything.” 

His mouth drifted open, but no argument issued forth as she wrangled her boots off her feet and the jeans from her ankles. Tossing the restrictive denim to the floor, she crawled over the seats to straddle his lap. She had to bend her neck to avoid hitting the ceiling with her head, but she didn’t mind uncomfortable position if it meant getting what she desperately needed. 

His palms grasped her bare hips as she tugged his boxers away from his hard cock, and wrapped her fingers around the pulsing shaft. A grunt burst from his lips, and his fingers dug into her skin. 

“Vic …” This time it was a shaking whisper, fraught with urgency. 

She shoved his jeans and boxers out of the way, and guided the tip of his cock to her slick entrance. She lowered herself onto him, biting her lower lip over a groan as he filled her. When their hips joined, his cock buried inside her, she grasped his jaw to keep his eyes on her. 

His eyelids hung heavy, threatening to clench shut as she rocked her hips against him. 

“Ohh …” He murmured, his voice low and raspy. 

His fingers tightened around her waist as his hips rose up to meet hers. Their skin smacked together, the raw, inelegant sound echoing through the truck in quick, eager rhythm.

Vic braced herself over him, meeting his equally needy thrusts with moaned affirmations. His fingers slid over her backside, clutching her to him and kneading into the round swells of flesh. She bumped into the steering wheel, tapping the horn, but ignoring the low beep that was barely audible over the sound of rushing wind surrounding the truck. Inside, there was no blizzard, no sense of danger; she’d completely lost herself in the sensation and pleasure. And if his slack-jawed expression of bliss said anything, he’d forgotten all about his personal ethics. 

 

~

 

They did their best to clean up using Walt’s handkerchief and a few leftover napkins from the glovebox. 

When they were both dressed again, Walt stared out his window, his knuckles braced against his mouth. 

“You were saying?” Vic remarked, unable to stop herself from gloating a little. 

A muffled shout from beyond the truck saved him from having to answer that question. 

“Did you hear that?” He asked. 

“Yeah, what was that?” 

The sound came again, and through the howl of wind, Vic could barely make out the sound of their names. Through the fogged glass window and the white-out storm, Vic could see a figure approaching the truck. 

Walt shoved the door open just as Ferg approached the wrecked Bronco in full winter gear. 

“Ferg?” Walt said, “How did you find us?” 

“I was just scanning the CB, and I didn’t really mean to tune into this channel since it’s, ya know, for work, but I heard you, Sheriff. I came as soon as I could. And I brought Omar with his truck.” Ferg said, hooking his finger back toward the road. 

Vic leaned across the truck to see Omar standing outside his truck with a scowl on his face, obviously none too happy about being pulled out into a blizzard at ten o’clock at night. 

“I told you.” Walt said, passing a Vic pleased smile. 

“I have never been so happy to be proven wrong.” She said, “Let’s get this truck out of here so we can go home.” 

Vic stood on the side of the road while Ferg and Walt hooked the cables up to Omar’s truck and the Bronco. Despite the heavy snowfall, Omar’s vehicle was able to pull the Bronco out of the ditch with relative ease. 

Once the truck was back onto the road, Walt inspected the undercarriage to make sure nothing was broken. 

“It looks like nobody, and nothing was damaged.” He said, patting the hood of the truck. 

“Do you remember anything about the truck that ran you off the road?” Ferg asked, “We can put out an APB.” 

“I don’t think that’s necessary, Ferg.” Walt said, patting his shoulder. “I don’t think it was intentional, and nobody was hurt. All’s well that ends well, right?” 

Vic pursed her lips over a grin as she caught his faint smile. 

“Can we get out of here now?” Omar complained, “I can’t feel my damn feet.” 

“Yep.” Walt said, “I appreciate it, Omar.” 

They shook hands, and parted ways to their separate vehicles. 

Vic was quiet as they followed the tail lights of Omar’s truck back to the station. It was slow going with the thick blanketing of snow. The only other vehicles on the road were the plows trying to mobilize in time for the morning work rush. 

As they drove into town, where driving was less treacherous, Vic cleared her throat. 

“So … you’re quiet.” 

“So are you.” 

“I’m trying to figure you out.” 

“I think you already did that.” 

Vic cast him a dubious gaze. “One moment we’re fighting, the next we’re …. I’m trying to figure out if you’re gonna be dodging me for the next couple of weeks, or …” 

“I’m just thinking before I speak.” 

“Thinking about what?” 

Walt’s gaze bounced from the road to her inquisitive gaze. He cleared his throat, rubbing a hand over his jaw. 

“The difference between caution and hypervigilance.” 

Vic frowned. “Meaning?” 

“I can’t tell if I’ve spent the last six months telling myself not to feel the way I do about you because I was upholding some ethical standard, or because I was afraid of moving on.” 

Vic focused on her hands folded tightly in her lap. She didn’t feel guilty for what had happened, only that she hadn’t taken more than a second to think about both of their previous relationships before diving in. 

“I’m not asking you to forget about her.” 

“I know. That would be impossible.” 

Vic nodded. She wondered if she could ever live up to the standard of a dead woman - a saint, if her reputation held true. There’s nothing like memory to idolize lost love, nothing more intense than the scrutiny of a man who’s lived the full length of the perfect relationship. 

“But, I can’t help but think …” Walt said, his voice soft, and meditative. “... I scattered her ashes that day that you decided to make your move. Maybe that means something more than coincidence.” 

Vic drew in a deep breath. “I hope so.”

“Well, one thing’s for sure.” Walt said, as he eased the truck to a stop against the curb in front of the Sheriff’s office. 

“What’s that?” Vic asked. 

Walt shut off the truck, and the engine cooled and ticked into the quiet. 

“I can’t keep having that argument in my head anymore.” He said, his gaze trained on her with fond resignation. 

“So, are you going to have it with me now?” 

He reached across the truck to grasp her hand, his fingers swallowing up her smaller ones. “No. I don’t think so.” 

Vic smiled despite the prick of relieved tears in her eyes. “Good. Because you don’t want to fight with me about this. I  _ will  _ kick your ass.” 

His smile widened. “I’ll hold you to that. Now, we should both get home before this storm gets worse. I’m sure we’ll be waking up tomorrow morning to a lot of calls about accidents.” 

“Mm, I can’t wait.”  She took off her seatbelt, and reached for the door handle, pausing to cast him a soft smile. “Well, goodnight.” 

His fingers tightened around her hand, pulling her back across the truck before she could leave. His palm cradled her cheek, turning her mouth to his for a slow, purposeful kiss. She was sipping air as if suffocating when he leaned back, his thumb stroking her cheek. 

“Goodnight.” He murmured. 

She nodded, feeling her face tingle with an exhilarated flush. 

“Call me when you get home so I know you made it safely.” He said. 

“Okay.” 

She climbed out of the Bronco, and crossed the street to where her own vehicle was parked. As she steered the truck away from the curb and toward her house, she saw the headlight of Walt’s truck follow her. 

Throughout the drive home, she kept an eye on the rearview mirror. The Bronco never turned off in the direction of his cabin, or lagged behind more than ten feet. The gradual acceleration of her heartbeat spiked to adrenaline-laced high when she parked in front of her house, and the Bronco rolled in behind her. 

Stepping out of the truck, she pushed the door shut, and turned to face Walt’s truck with her arms crossed. The headlights shut off, leaving them in darkness. 

He got out of the truck, and approached her, his head tilted down in a determined stride. 

“I thought you said for me to call you.” 

“I did.” 

His hands reached up to grasp her cheeks, pulling her into a bracing kiss that lasted mere seconds before he pulled back, panting softly. “I couldn’t wait.” 

She swallowed hard, finding his burning gaze in the darkness. The air around them shifted with a breeze that was just cold enough to pierce the heat coiling in her middle. 

“We should go in.” She whispered. 

His hand clutched hers as they walked up the front steps of Vic’s house, and she wiggled the key into the lock. She let them in, and flicked the lights on to illuminate the living room. She’d left behind a pile of unfolded laundry, and a few empty pizza boxes and beer bottles. The idea that she had once lived here with her husband was so far from her mind that it barely occurred to her as she led them into the bedroom. 

It wasn’t until he pushed her down to the sheets and stripped her of her clothes that she thought of Sean and the loneliness she’d wrestled with on this bed for the past several weeks. She closed her eyes, chasing away those lingering ghosts with one deep exhale. His mouth was already between her legs, taking her to another universe; tomorrow, reality would likely strike them like a bucket of ice water, but in this moment, she didn’t have a care in the world. 

  
  
  


~the end~

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! :)
> 
> You can also find me on [Tumblr!](https://anck-su-namoon.tumblr.com///)!


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